Slice of Work #4 — Typewriting and Aspirations

I was in college, years ago. That was years ago and my first summer holidays was coming up. I had saved some money for doing ‘something useful’. Quickly I went in and enrolled myself at the typewriting institute to learn to type. Yes, in those days, we had proper places that taught us to do that. They also taught you shorthand, care a ‘Pitman’ book. I had in my hands a page of asdfgf…. :lkjhj..neatly typed. And as soon as my dad came home I thrust the page at him. I had notions of him praising me for putting the scarce money to good use.

My dad ripped the typed page flung it to my face and asked me if I had decided to end up as a typist and if I had any high aspirations at all. And told me to never go to the place again. My plea to complete the course fell on deaf ears. He was okay for me to lose the deposit on the course. I felt lousy but stomached it. Grow up he said, expand your reach of what you can become, not end up as a typist. I protested that it was a skill. He shooed me away. I sulked and sank.

Many years later I was interviewing someone for an assistant. Naga sat in front of me and had all the credentials. My final question was – ‘what did you do in your undergrad and what was your ‘percentage’. He said he did his Physics and secured 86 %. It was my turn to stand up in amazement! Here was a top class graduate and he did a secretarial job for 20 years!! He said that he had to as he did not know what else to do. Naga got hired that day with a promise that he would not stay an assistant if he worked with us.

I went home, lost in thought of my dad who years ago had forced me to think beyond ‘typewriting’. Chiding my aspirational deficit, stoking me to think beyond. I did not understand him then. I was smarting in anger at losing money for a program. I was blind to the concern of my dad who did not want me to get sucked into a profession that he once started with ... and the long perilous climb thereafter.

At times, we don’t understand what it means to think big. What it means to reach our potential. To look for something that is beyond your reach within your grasp. To take the hard road, and expand your horizons. I am always in debt to my dad. BTW, I type really fast now. And as for Naga, he went on to do great things in the years after he joined us, and is now a GM in a large company.

Slice of Life #9 — Mindful Timelessness

I met her in the airport lounge the other day. As ever, immaculate in her crisp saree and warmth in her eyes, on a call, a Kindle in her hands. The moment she saw me she excused herself from the call, rose and gave me an affectionate hug. And we got talking. And I was keeping an eye on the time, just to make sure I did not miss the flight. One can get lost in conversations with Dr. Indira Parikh. We had some 20 minutes to go. The intensity of the conversation was evident. And ‘how’ of it was not lost on me.

Several years ago, Dr. Hemant Parikh, her late husband, an Indian scientist and the young bride Indira Parikh were invited to attend the grand dinner ball in Stockholm on the 10th of Dec. Nobel Prize investiture. And Indira all of 21 years was the only one in an elegant saree, while the wives of Nobel laureates and invitees were in evening gowns and boring black dresses. As always she was the center of attention and many of the Nobel Laureates went out of the way to meet her. In a moment of innocence and naivety she asked one if she could spend an hour with him in his office the following day to know more about his work. There was a shocked silence, as no one would dare ask time of such luminaries.

He was a kindly man and he agreed. His secretary quickly told Indira that she was to meet him only for 15 minutes the following morning. And asked her to come in early so he was not kept waiting. Indira was nervous as came early. At the appointed time she was ushered into his room. There was a great calmness about him. They spoke for a long time, a long long time. And gently as she was ushered in, she was escorted out. There were no calls, no interruptions. Only the two of them. That long meeting was all of fifteen minutes!

She had told me this story earlier. Mindfulness, focus and deep sense of care for another stretches time. I could feel the same thing … some things are worth learning and practicing. Being in the moment. Sans mobile, sans distraction, sans disruption. I had never asked her as to how she managed to do so much in such a short time. My flight got announced, and my watch was all of 18 minutes. Seemed like an hour. I am deeply in gratitude, Indira. For in your company, time is timeless.

Slice of Life #8 — Of Delayed Flights and Choices We Make

It was one of those days, many years ago, when everything went wrong. I was to attend a meeting in one city, come back, and then leave for an overseas trip that night. The meeting went off well, and it ended on time. The flight back was at 5.30 PM. The road to the airport was devoid of traffic and things were going on plan. I reached the airport only to learn that that the flight was delayed to 7.30 PM. That would mean a touch and go for me. I decided to check if there were other flights.

There was one at 6.45 PM, by a reliable carrier that was usually on time. I had a choice of getting on to this one and cancel my original flight which would leave only by 7.30 PM. I was caught on the horns of a dilemma. Should I now change to a new carrier, or should I stick to the original? I checked with the attendant and she told me that even though the flight was delayed it would start at 7.30.

How was I to know if my delayed flight would take off even at 7.30? And there was an option to take another flight. Times like these you have to make a hard choice. I decided that I would stick to my decision. I would leave by the 7.30 flight. No change. My wife used to say that it pays to quieten down, not get distracted and focus. The flight took off on time and I made the International connection. By the way, the reliable carrier’s flight was delayed by an hour! I had learnt a lesson.

It is easy to waver in times of stress and be swayed by choices. And staying the course is a choice. Years ago, I made such a choice. It was an opportunity to move to a new function and job. I decided to stick with the same firm and the function. At that time I did not know if that was a good choice or not, and I don’t know that even today. I do know that choices will keep coming up. And each time it is another test, not of choices but of the mind and what happens thereafter.

The choices we make take us on a journey. Instead of looking at the destination and comparing it with others, enjoying the journey is a great way of putting that choice to good use. So, it is not the choice that makes the difference, it is what we do about what choices we make. We really don’t ‘arrive,’ we keep enjoying the journey, and when we do, we truly arrive!

Slice of Life #7 — Packing Mother’s Suitcase

Mother wanted to go to Chennai. Like most octogenarian she kept reminding me that her suitcase needed to be packed. I told her that it was the fourth time she had told me. It was clearly her excitement of travelling back to Madras. To her it was always Madras, not Chennai. I told her to keep all her things on the bed in the room for me to then start the packing process. There was a twinkle in her eye. I left for work thereafter.

In the evening, I came back to a double bed full of clothes, and a pile of whatnots that needed to be discarded, not packed! Why would she want to take her magazines in her suitcase? And the bathing ‘Mira’ sheekakai powder, of all things. This came from ‘Madras’!! And six bars of washing soap, and five clunks of bathing soap. And endless sarees. It was going to be a long evening of negotiation. I needed to be patient with her and speak softly.

Reminded me of my school days. When packing my bags to school, I always packed a couple of story books and stealthily put in a couple of ‘tops’ a yoyo and a few marbles. My mother would then come in to inspect my bag before I charged off to school. When caught, the questions, the protestations and the deep sense of hurt if she put away the yoyo or the marbles and a tear shed for good measure, came rushing to mind. The day when she let me carry a story book to school, I hugged her. She said that I was to read it at the break. Fast forward, it was the same game all over only that the roles were reversed.

I tried to persuade her to lose the mags, and told her that the soaps could be purchased in Madras. She protested, said the mags had her favorite stories. I paused. What is it to give in to the ask of a lady bent with burden of raising three children and of modest means, of those times? She looked longingly at me. I relented. What would I tell her? That I would have to pay excess baggage? She had carried the baggage of life without a murmur. And with a smile. I simply put all the stuff in the bag and gave her a big hug. There were tears in her eyes.

The bags were packed, the sentiments were not. I looked away and wiped the tears as I left the room, even as I smiled.

Slice of Life #6 — Little Lies and Life

It happened quite innocently one day when I was returning from a business trip. My wife asked me what time I would be coming in and I told her that I would be there around 10 pm. I was actually catching an earlier flight and I would be home a couple of hours earlier. I wanted to surprise her and told her a ‘little lie’ about the time I would be home. It so happened that the flight got delayed and I actually got home only at 10 pm. This was crazy!

Another time I went to the market and when she asked me if plantains were available, I gently lied that they were out of stock. I would surprise her by bringing them home, I thought. I went inside the shop that usually stocked them and to my surprise, I found that they were missing from the shelves. It could not be true, I thought. This was the second incident in the week.

I was thinking of going to the gym. I was feeling lazy and my heart was not in it. I would tell my wife that the car would not start and I could duck out. When I went up, I found that two of the tires were kaput and there was no way I could be driving for some time now! Now the little lie game was getting a bit much!

Perhaps that was a bit of truth in the lie game. At a conscious level it starts to play out what the subconscious lied about. I was living the lie! It was time to stop. It was so much better to avoid the little lies. It is better to speak the truth and pay the price or reap of being at peace with oneself. I called my wife and told her that the flight was on time. And it was. Once in a while you chuckle for being a ‘good fella.’ In all the darkness of life the rays of hope lie in speaking the truth. Life is beautiful without the lies. It is.

Slice of Life #5 — Falling in Line

It was one of those crazy Monday mornings at the airport. Almost all of the city had converged to take the flight that day, or so it seemed.

These days you have to have to stand in queue with one hand carrying a tray for you to deposit the laptop, your jacket, mobile, etc., and the other is the stroller bag. And to secure one of those trays for these kinds of flight is like getting a big fat lottery. Sometimes, I think someone is going to make some great suggestion as to how we should have a seamless way to deposit our luggage for airport scrutiny.

I was in one of those long queues and I almost made it to the tray lot when a big, wide-bodied, chiseled, tall man walked in front of me and took a tray. Clearly he had jumped the queue. I was touched to the quick and of course, did not want to raise my voice and was going to make a meek sound of protest. Except, my inner voice was a lot louder and I heard myself speak in a firm and polite way: “Excuse me, gentleman. There is a queue here. Would you mind joining it please?” And looked at him and smiled. My fellow queue guys looked at me in horror. The hulk looked at me for a moment, and gave up and meekly said, “Oh, I did not know that.” A lie that I gladly glossed over, and proceeded with my deposits into the scanner. Chose not to make eye contact, I murmured a “thank you.”

Of course, then you join the queue for the physical check. And that took a while, and I reached the other side to wait for my bags to get through the scanner. And I espied the queue on the other side and saw the hulk near the trays. Just then, another gentleman sneaked in and took a tray and stood ahead of the hulk. This was interesting. The hulk politely said to him, “Excuse me sir, there is a queue here, do you mind?”

Just then the heavens smiled, as did I, for this whole business of ‘falling in line’ was falling in line! Just sometimes, you have to speak up and stand up for what you believe in, even in the face of consequences. For that is important. It is!

Slice of Work #3 — How to Become a GM!

He was a diminutive chap. A quiet man, whom I will call NR. He had been a secretary to a General Manager of a well-known trading company. He looked ordinary but had a constant smile on him. He was going to be interviewed by SK, a VP of an MNC who wanted a steno typist. At a preliminary interview, a helpful HR person suggested to SK that he need not waste his time as he was not a good MNC fit. SK however waved him away and asked to meet NR.

At first sight, he thought he was indeed a wrong fit. The man sported a broad checked shirt and a light green trouser.No power dressing, this. SK, swallowed his prejudice, offered a seat, and asked about his education. "B.Sc., Physics," said NR. This was interesting, a Physics major was doing the job of a steno-typist! 86% aggregate, he gently added. Now, SK was curious. Sitting in front of him was a man who had a strong academic record but was doing a job of a steno typist. He was acutely aware that he himself had not got those marks in college.

Upon gentle persuasion, NR spoke of his need to take up a typist job to support his family. And after 18 years of working through the system, had moved to be the secretary to the GM. SK forgot all of his prejudice of an MNC look. He asked him some more questions and was convinced of his versatility. It was a sad quirk of fate that NR could not pursue his studies. Here was an outstanding man whose time had come, thought SK.

“You will work with me for only 18 months, and I would like to see you move on,” he said. It was the turn of NR to be surprised. SK added that he wanted NR to grow in the organization and that he would be perpetrating a fault if he insisted on his being his assistant. “You will take on other roles in my function,” he added. NR smiled, moist of eyes. Here was a man who wanted him to grow in the organization!

Everyone loved him. NR was ever present, always ready to help and had earned the tag of reliability about him. SK moved him after 18 months and had him take other roles. NR grew rapidly. He dazzled everyone with his diligence, rigor and focus. His presentations were a treat. Years later, NR went to SK’s house and pressed an envelope into his hand and said that he had an external opportunity and wanted his advice. It was a job offer from a reputed company and for the post of a GM-Operations. SK re read the designation ! What a distance NR had covered! It was the turn of SK to reach for his kerchief.

A secretary to a GM was now a General Manager! A warm hug and some coffee later, SK asked him to move on. There are many in the world who all but need an opportunity and faith..faith in the ability of ordinary steno typist with a checked shirt and green trouser.